My Old Sparrow Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Welcome my dear old sparrow
Ere the looking glass of dusty demeanor
That framed mine self thirty long years
After the tolling of twentieth springs.
That was the time when chirping dreams of premature genre
Enticed my wild spirit to scale the slope of adverse hopes
And bore the creeping pains with consoling mind,
Till my broken self reset the rolling head
For chasing the next Elf.
In that perfumed hours of darling youth
Found many clappings to speed the time
And handful elation from patting fiendly hands
For caging some wild sparrows in my heart beneath.
Now they are flocking my room sheding all charmed feathers
And lumbering before the glass silent
That lost much of its clear gazing
Gathering enough dust in thirty winters.
Alas! still those old birds beeline before that looking glass,
Perhaps to read the times unique stratagem
Which has taken toll all of our teenaged joys
Or to read the face bereft of warm embrace
And rest the soft legacy to fledging posterity.
But I know whoever comes or goes,
Will not clear the hazes of that glass
To restore its lost glows.
Adieu my old sparrow
As nothing to be returned here
Nor to retrieve those lost feathers or rose lip faces,
What remains few more noises and sniffing noses
To commemorate the sweet gossips we had once made.